


Sacrifice

by sierraraeck



Series: Aundreya Chambers [15]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Aaron Hotchner - Freeform, Angst, Aundreya Chambers, Criminal Minds Family, David Rossi - Freeform, Derek Morgan - Freeform, Emily Prentiss - Freeform, FBI, Gen, Hurt Spencer Reid, Original Female Character - Freeform, POV Original Female Character, Penelope Garcia - Freeform, Prison Arc Reimagined, Slow Burn, Spencer Reid - Freeform, Spencer Reid Angst, The BAU Team as Family (Criminal Minds), bau, jennifer jareau - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 08:42:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29186499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sierraraeck/pseuds/sierraraeck
Summary: Series Summary: This is a series following Aundreya Chambers and her experience with the BAU, Spencer, and trying to navigate the FBI as a high-profile criminal. And things get very messy.Chapter Summary: Aundreya does everything she can to save Spencer, which ultimately means sacrificing herself in the process. Story fifteen.
Relationships: The BAU Team/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Aundreya Chambers [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2130924
Kudos: 1





	Sacrifice

**Author's Note:**

> Still fiction, still don’t know anything about prisons or their policies on handling inmates.

Nothing good in this world lasts for long, someone smart said at some point. 

Not like things had exactly been going ‘good’ for us lately.

“Welcome home,” Sheriff Deborah sneered. 

“Oh fuck you,” I hissed back.

“Wow, did you just say an expletive to an officer of the law?” she asked, feigning offense.

“Yeah I did. Last I checked, I’m protected by this cool thing called freedom of speech as a part of my rights.”

“You’re about to lose those,” an all too familiar voice piped up. _Shit. This just got worse._

“Ah. Jane Doe, it’s nice of you to grace us with your ever-so-lovely presence,” I deadpanned.

“Nice to see you too,” she smirked. Sheriff Anderson and I went way back. She was the one who had initially caught wind that there was someone known as The Figure running around on the streets. I had been completely anonymous prior to that, and she was the one who brought all that unwanted attention on me. Since then, she apparently made a vow to catch me, and she really did try. Jane was the one that set up the first trap to try and lure me out and arrest me. She was also the one that encouraged calling in the FBI, who set _another_ trap to try and get me to talk. I showed her my face that time and winked on the way out. Unfortunately, she _had_ to be the one that finally arrested me when I got sent to the supermax. Needless to say, we were not friends. 

“So what brings you to my cozy motel room this fine evening?” I asked. My bitchiness always elevated when Jane was around. 

“Actually, I invited her,” Sheriff Madalina spoke up.

“Oh, did you now?” I asked incredulously. 

“Sure did. I was thinking about the case, _your_ case, and I realized that there was one name that just kept popping up. Luckily for me, Sheriff Anderson here was close by and very available.”

“I’m sure,” I rolled my eyes, “What’re you missing this time, Sheriff? A funeral, a graduation, another wedding..?” 

“Will you ever put that to rest?” Jane asked.

“Will he?” I quipped. Once she started tracking me like a bloodhound, I figured I’d do some of my own digging. I found out that she’d skipped her plane ride out to Mexico so she could be there to simply _watch_ the FBI deal with me. I found out later that after it was unsuccessful, she basically missed her own son’s wedding. I got quite the kick out of that and brought it up when I could, just to get under her skin. 

“Aundreya,” it was Hotch this time. I had gotten so sucked into Jane’s guest appearance that I forgot the rest of the team was there, too. I guess that was probably what they were going for, bringing her here, to throw me off.

“It’s a valid question,” I remarked. “So what? You find a common problem and you _all_ decide to tag team?” 

“They’re here because they want to be, not because we asked them,” Sheriff Anderson stated. 

“Oh, so you _want_ to send us back to prison?” I glared at the team members. _And to think I actually trusted them at some point._

“It’s not like that,” Morgan started.

“No, I think it’s exactly like that,” I cut him off. 

“Careful Agent, I wouldn’t want you to end up the victim of aggravated assault. _Again ,_ ” Jane smirked.

“Aggravated assault?” I questioned, my eyes getting a bit bigger, “I wouldn’t call it _that._ ”

“Then what would you call it?”

“I’d consider it a workplace squabble,” I commented, suppressing a small smile.

Derek snorted and shook his head. Deborah was quick to step in, “You’d call attacking a special agent, then pulling a gun on your team a ‘workplace squabble?’”

“Absolutely,” I confirmed, “What would you call it?”

Deborah’s mouth hung slightly open before replying, “Aggravated assault of an agent.”

“Interesting, we should totally compare notes on definitions another time, but that’s not really why you’re here, is it?”

“No,” Jane shook her head, “We’re here because you broke out of prison. And brought company.” It was the first time anyone in the room had really acknowledged Spencer, who seemed cemented in place behind me. All eyes turned to him, and I could see the discomfort spread like wildfire across his features. 

I drew the attention away from him by asking, “How’d you find me anyway?”

“An anonymous tip,” Anderson informed.

That’s when everything clicked. 

_Corbyn Young and the spying, Koda and dealing Spencer drugs, the sheer_ **_amount_** _of drugs in Spencer’s apartment, the connection to Darrell Fairchild, how it was all slowly driving me crazy … and now? An anonymous tip accompanied by my least favorite cop?_

_Xena._

“Wait, an anonymous tip?” I confirmed, shaking my head. _How did I not see this?_

I got no response, not like I needed one, and immediately started looking around. I took small, slow steps, being sure to stay in my own little radius, evaluating every nook and cranny of the motel. “There are cameras in here, aren’t there?”

Again, no response, just a bunch of gaping mouths. I let out a venomous chuckle. “You little bitch. I should have known. God, I should have fucking known!” I shook my head. “Of course it was you. But I mean, this … this is a whole new low, even for you. Invading my personal space, spying on us, using the same goddamned sheriff…”

“Chambers, who are you talking to?” Prentiss piped up. 

I didn’t even answer. I was fuming. “And typically, you don’t even bother to show up because you can’t handle real face to face conflict. You never could. You always felt the need to record your victories instead. I mean, how else were people supposed to believe you,” I jeered. I’d finished searching the room and finally found what I was looking for. A tiny, black circle in the middle of the clock on the wall, recording everything. I flipped it off, making sure to shove my finger right in the middle of the frame. “Alright fine,” I performed the most obnoxious curtsey I could to be sure she’d see me, “Well played. Round five goes to you. But don’t forget, I’m still up three to two and you better believe I’m coming for you in the next one.”

“What the hell is going on?” Derek sounded confused and irritated.

Again, I blew the question off and turned to the sheriffs. It really wasn’t worth explaining. “Whatever you’re here to do, just do it.”

I saw the slight shock on everyone’s face, and I had a pretty good idea why. For someone that hated being caged, practically _couldn’t_ be caged, I was giving up fairly quickly. But I knew that if Xena was behind this, which she had to have been, I wasn’t going to get out of it by stalling. _Might as well just get it over with._

It was Jane who recovered first. “We’re here to arrest both of you and return you to your rightful places behind bars. You’re going for assault and escaping, and he’s going back for the murder of Corbyn Young.”

Both women started to take steps towards us as Deen’s voice came ringing back into my head. _You have to focus on getting the two of you safe. Make sure that it wasn’t for nothing and that you finish this out._

I instinctively stepped in front of Spencer and blurted, “It was me, you were right.”

Their movement towards us halted. Sheriff Madalina’s brow was furrowed, “What?”

“You were right, earlier I mean, when you thought it was me who framed Reid. I did it.”

I felt Spencer’s hot breath on my ear as he whispered, “Aundreya, what-”

“Hush,” I whispered back.

“What are you saying?” Hotch probed.

I took in as much oxygen as I could manage and turned my attitude to stone, fighting the urge to rub my palms together. “I’m saying that it was me the whole time. Corbyn was one of my guys, and I had him tracking the members of this team. I found out that he was getting paid to keep tabs on me as well, and when I approached him about it, I realized that not only had he betrayed me, but he had sensitive information I didn’t want getting out. So I killed him. I hadn’t thought it through, and couldn’t afford to get caught. So the first thing I thought to do was set Spencer up,” I started.

“Stop, what are you-” Spencer tried.

“The people at the front desk had seen me often enough to dismiss my presence, so I just snuck past them with the drugs,” I continued. “I stashed them in his place so that when people found Corbyn, Spencer would look like the prime suspect.”

“Why are you telling us this now?” Deborah asked.

“Because while you may believe I have no capacity for emotions, I do. When I saw how badly beaten up Reid was, I just couldn’t choke down the guilt anymore. If he died, that would be my fault, and while I could handle him taking the fall for me, I couldn’t handle him dying for me. I thought that I could break us both out and get away with it, but clearly I was wrong.”

“I don’t believe you,” Jane stated. 

“You should,” I retorted.

“You wouldn’t have a problem letting him die for you. I just can’t understand why you’re trying to take credit for what he’s done?” she pondered.

“Oh, come on sheriff, look at the kid. Does he really look like he could overpower and then murder a man like Corbyn?” I inquired.

“I mean, the evidence-”

“Screw the evidence. How long have you been tracking me to know that it doesn’t really matter? What _does_ matter, is that I’ve killed people before, and will certainly kill people again. My track record says so. His,” I gestured to Spencer, “is squeaky clean. Come on Janey, you have everything you need, and this is a one time offer. It will never be this easy again.” I glanced over at the recording device inside the clock. _I will never let her catch me this off guard again._

“Alright, then. Aundreya Chambers, you are under arrest for the murder of-” Sheriff Anderson started.

“You don’t seriously believe that, do you?” Reid interrupted. 

“Of course they do. And out of all the people in this room, you should be the most willing to believe it,” I hissed. He was not making this easy for me.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Emily asked.

“We broke out of the prison, and on the way we had a little _encounter,_ didn’t we?” I addressed. I looked back at Spencer, who’s eyes were just about as wide as his socket would let them, “Come on. You know better than anyone what I’m capable of.”

He swallowed.

“Reid, what is she talking about?” Derek pushed.

“Uh,” he looked down at me, and I shot my eyebrows up, inviting him to proceed. “On our way out, we ran into some guys. They were, um, the ones that beat me up a week ago. As we were trying to get around them, she uh…”

“Yes, Reid,” I prompted. _If this is what it takes to get him out and safe, so be it._

“She slit his throat,” he mumbled, and I wondered if anyone else heard him. All it took was one glance around the room to know that they had. 

“You _what_?” Derek’s jaw had crashed to the floor.

I hadn’t exactly planned on it, but that opened up the perfect opportunity for me to clear his name for escaping as well. “Which is probably why he was scared enough to go along with me.”

“So you’re saying he didn’t escape of his own free will?” Deborah confirmed.

“Correct. It was my plan, my execution, and he was probably so scared of what I could do to him with my drugs, dagger, and gun, that he just went along with it,” I shrugged.

“That’s not true,” Spencer huffed. _Is he trying to get sent back to jail?_

I looked over at Hotch with pleading eyes. He had to know what was actually happening, and if not, he _had_ to help me get Spencer out of this. Because whether or not he thought I was guilty didn’t matter, because he _knew_ Spencer wasn’t. 

“If she’s been manipulating him this whole time, he’s probably still under her influence,” Hotch casually pointed out. _Thank god._

“What? No, that’s not-” Spencer persisted, but it wasn’t going to work, not now that Hotch had stepped in.

“It’s called Stockholm Syndrome,” Hotch continued, all eyes locked on him, “We see it all the time. It’s very common when a victim believes that their captor is also trying to help them. In this case, he’d think that she’s helping him by getting him out of prison.”

“And you’re sure?” both sheriffs confirmed.

“Yes,” Hotch assured.

“Alright then.” Deborah escorted a stunned Spencer to where the rest of the team was standing with his mouth hanging open, the betrayal in his eyes set on his boss.

“It looks like I’ll be the one who gets to take you in,” Jane grinned.

“Looks like it,” I coldly retorted.

“I guess I’ll be keeping my promise after all.”

“Oh, really? Is that what you think this is?” I asked, some heat returning to my voice.

“I promised you that the next time I cuffed you, and sent you behind bars, the chair would be waiting,” she snickered, taking a few cautious steps my way.

“Don’t forget what I promised you, old Janey,” I tsked, “That you will never _truly_ catch me, and no matter how hard you try, no matter how hard you work, I will _always_ get out of it.”

She rolled her eyes and firmly shook her head. “Not this time.”

“Are you willing to find out which one of us will be breaking our promise?” I challenged.

“I’ll take my chances,” she accepted, taking a few more steps in my direction, these a bit more confident. 

In response, I stuck my wrists out at her, “Have at it.”

She quickly took advantage of what I was offering, turning me around against the wall and swiftly clasping the cuffs around my wrists. She tightened them as much as possible.

“Ooh, I didn’t realize you liked your cuffs that tight, Janey-poo,” I mocked. “Got a little kink to ya after all.”

She yanked me back from the wall, and I felt the hot words on her breath as she whispered, “I’ve pulled some strings to get you in solitary, practically in your own wing, once you arrive. You’ll be right next to the room where it happens, waking up and falling asleep with the knowledge that soon, it’ll be your final words you’re hearing echo down that hall.”

I just chuckled, only guessing at how crazed I must have looked. Sheriff Anderson hauled me out of the room, but I resisted, fighting to turn around and look at the team. _Who knows how long it’ll be ‘till I see them again?_

I stood there, only for a second or two, but it was enough to give them all a definite nod. Jane shoved my head through the door frame of the police car, the familiarity of it all rising to the top of my mind. I looked out the window and saw a shadow of a figure, hovering outside of the motel. I didn’t have to look twice to know exactly who it was. Xena was looking right at me, and I winked at her, flashing one of my most cruel smiles.

_She only got half of a win. She might have gotten me, but she didn’t get to Spencer, or anyone else on the team. Because there is no way in hell I’m going to let her touch them, not like last time._

It was as satisfying of a thought as any in that moment, as the squad car sped off in the direction of my next hell hole. 

* * *

Eight days.

That’s how long it took the team to give up on me. 

Eight.

Not only give up on me, but effectively replace me with Doctor Tara Lewis. It’s like they were _waiting_ for something like this to happen and just jumped at the opportunity to get rid of me. 

Did I confess to two murders, one I did commit and the other I didn’t commit? Yes. Did I have a pretty nasty track record? Definitely. Was I expecting to be left in prison for a long time? Absolutely. 

But did I ever expect the BAU to just push me to the side like trash and forget about me? Absolutely not. And I would have never guessed that they would have actually _believed_ me, believed that I did it. Not only that, but believed that I would have framed Spencer for it. Just when I thought I’d thought of everything. 

The only person who ever visited me was Penelope, and she had to come in secret after the first week. She was the one who hinted at the fact that the rest of the team wasn’t exactly helping me anymore, and I dragged the rest out of her.

 _And the rest of them?_ I asked her.

_They… they, uh…_

_What Penelope? I can handle it._

_They don’t really know what to think,_ she reluctantly answered. 

_They think I did it, don’t they?_

_Well… no, I think, um…_ I appreciated the effort, but I knew it wasn’t good.

_Damn. So why are you here?_

Penelope’s sweet eyes couldn’t meet mine, and I knew that she was starting to be influenced by the rest of the team.

_Everyone needs someone._

_Thank you, Garcia, but I know there is something more,_ I could see it in the way she tried to smile at me.

_Did you really… kill that man?_

All I could do was sigh, _I’m sorry Penelope._

I couldn’t stand to look at her anymore, so I got up and turned away, returning to my solitary cell, like Sheriff Anderson promised. She visited me one more time after that, and that was it. Whether that was on her own accord or because Derek or someone else found out and reprimanded her, I didn’t know, and I honestly didn’t care. I was back to being alone either way. 

I kept to myself, not like I really had a choice, and tried to just ignore everything that was spinning out of control around me. At the end of the month, right after Penelope stopped visiting, I got granted ‘good behavior’ (plus they needed to free up some solitary space), so they moved me out and into a regular cell, where I could pretend to interact with people. 

The day was going fine all the way up until some dumb bitch decided to announce to the cafeteria who I was. 

“I cannot believe it,” the stalky, black braided hair chick said as she sauntered over. “It’s the great and powerful Alionth. Back at it again in prison, are we?”

I sort of recognized her as another initiate from the gang I rejected, but besides her face, nothing else came to mind. I kept my head down but rolled my eyes.

“Hello? I’m talking to you!” she squawked as two other girls came to back her up on either flank. 

_Jesus Christ._ I sighed, voice dull, “I’m aware. Anything else I can help you with?”

“Oh, so you’ve got attitude. I know that you think you’re pretty hot stuff, but I run this place around here,” she spat.

I snorted, “You wish.”

She wadded up the collar of my jumpsuit and yanked me to standing. She held me up to the cylindrical pole near the center of the room, right behind my seat. _Here we go._

“What did you just say to me?” Her heavy New Jersey accent was a crisp sound, pinging off the rows of metal tables and concrete walls.

“I said, ‘you wish.’ Sure, you’re high up in the rankings, but I know you don’t run this place. If I had to guess, you and your girls here are about third or fourth in command, but peaches over there,” I nodded my head toward the dark woman with a tapered afro, “is the real leader here.” That caught her attention, and I could see the curiosity in her eyes as she watched what continued to go down. “And blondie over there,” I gestured to another woman in the back, “is her second. That leaves three and four to be either you or my new bestie here,” I stated casually, directing my attention to the girl who sat a few seats over from me, “How’d I do?” I challenged. 

Her grip on me loosened, and I could tell I had shocked her. 

She quickly composed herself, though. “So I guess the rumors are true.”

“I bet they are,” I deadpanned, squinting my eyes.

“So, uh,” she licked her lips, “where’s your fed friends?”

I quickly grabbed her hand and forced her off of me. “ _Careful_ ,” I warned through clenched teeth, tone cold.

“Why? You don’t want me talking about your pretty blonde friend or the rest of your so-called ‘family?’” she quoted the air, “I bet you’re _thrilled_ you betrayed us to go work for the dirty swines that are leaving you in-” 

Then I kicked her jaw in. I was not going to be taking shit from from some fourth-in-command, entitled bitch who knew nothing about me or my situation. I felt the top of my foot hit the side of her jaw as my toes dug into her neck. By the time she hit the floor, she was out cold. 

At the sound of her body hitting the floor, the guards decided they wanted to pay attention. I saw them coming at me, so I quickly announced, “Any more questions?”

Right as I finished, lightning struck my body, sending shockwaves through my nerves. A guard had poked me in my shoulder blade with his taser, and I turned to grab the pole for support. I used every ounce of energy to keep myself on my feet, gasping for air. I felt a pair of hands going to grab my arm and escort me out but I shook them off.

“Anywhere you are taking me, I can get there myself,” I forced out through labored breaths. I pushed off of the pole, glared at anyone in my line of sight, and shook feeling back into my feet, just enough for me to walk. I took a couple of wobbly steps forward, and felt the hands return to my arms. “I said I got it. Back to solitary?”

I wasn’t expecting an answer, but a deep voice replied, “It’s almost like you’ve done this before.”

I chuckled. “You could say that.” I felt the eyes on me as I exited the cafeteria in a haste, having enough social interaction for one day. 

* * *

It had been about three months since Aundreya had been incarcerated, and Derek and Emily were on their way to see her. If they were being honest with themselves, they didn’t exactly know why. It could’ve been because she used to be their friend, it could’ve been to share whatever updates they had about her case, it could’ve been because they felt slightly guilty for not having visited her. Maybe they just wanted to see her face and look into her eyes when they asked her about what had happened, trying to gauge her reaction and get the best answers they could. Whatever the reason, they were there, and were walking down a strip of cells when a woman’s voice caught their attention.

“Don’t do that,” she warned, sandpaper coating her throat.

“And who are you?” Emily asked, sass evident in her undertone.

“Raven. I used to run this place until your bitch showed up,” she spat.

“And what does that have to do with us seeing her?” It was Derek’s turn to question.

“Are you really that stupid? No wonder you piss her off so much,” Raven smirked.

“What does that mean?” Derek snapped. 

Raven’s smirk morphed into one that was condescending, “Aren’t you the people who supposedly cared about her, then gave up on her after like, a week?”

“That’s not-” Emily tried.

“Don’t try to deny it, we all know,” she interjected. “One of my girls was pressing all sorts of buttons before Alionth snapped, but the one that pushed her over the edge was the button with your names on it.”

“ _Alionth?_ ” Emily arched an eyebrow.

Raven just huffed and shook her head in response, continuing with, “She barely even mentioned you guys and her ass was on the ground. Her whole face is practically broken.”

“Aundre- Alionth did that to a girl, because of _us_?” Derek sounded astonished.

“You and whatever the fuck you did to her,” Raven ignored his shock, “And as far as I know, she’s always been like that.”

“That’s not true,” Emily immediately defended, but anyone with ears could hear the wavering in conviction.

“Maybe you just brushed it off because she was ‘protecting a friend,’ or ‘saving an innocent.’ Maybe you just thought that the case got to her and that’s why she was particularly hateful toward the bad guy, and I mean, come on, it’s just a serial killer. Who cares if he gets a little bit roughed up or, honestly, if she shoots him if necessary? I could see how that would be deceiving. But that’s just her,” Raven casually stated, shrugging her shoulders, “She’s on-edge, ruthless, and violent. She’s ready to explode at any moment, taking any and everyone down with her. That’s how she’s always been. You didn’t really think she got all of that cleaned up because she joined the FBI, did you? You couldn’t have believed that she was magically fixed because she spent a few years with you?” She paused to eye the agents in front of her, but wasn’t really expecting an answer. She didn’t get one, “That’s not how it works. Twenty-four years versus three? I mean there’s really no comparison. You of all people should know that. And honestly, her being a stone cold bitch is working for us, and while I’m still sort of terrified, I guess I should be thanking you.”

“What for?” Derek demanded.

“I mean, I haven’t seen a prison run so smoothly, have you? Most of the girls in here, or at least the smart ones without a major attitude or ego trip, are getting upped for ‘good behavior’ because they know that if they do anything to piss her off, they will be in the infirmary in three seconds flat. Not to mention that she’s got basically every single guard under her thumb already. So for her sake, and for the good of all of the rest of us in here, leave her the fuck alone.” And with that, Raven sat back down in her cell, effectively shutting both agents up. Within the next couple of minutes, they both left without another glance behind them.

* * *

The only other contact besides Penelope that I had with the team was a letter. A single letter, left on the bed of my solitary room when I returned there for the sixth time in four months. 

It was an ongoing joke now, that whenever they let me out after my allotted time, it was always ‘see you in a couple days’ or ‘don’t stay away too long’ or something to that effect. Each time I left, it was like there was a new person in line, ready to take their turn at me. It was funny to me that there were still a few girls willing to fight me, already having previewed the outcome. But I guess the definition of insanity (which these girls definitely seemed insane to me) is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different outcome, which in this case, was them heading to the infirmary for about the same amount of time I headed back to solitary. It was starting to form quite the nice routine, actually. 

Except this one little piece of paper was not a part of the usual plan.

I picked up the envelope and scrunched up my nose at the guard who was about to shut the door in my face. “This for me?”

“Do you see anyone else in there?” he quipped. The squeak of the door as it was pushed shut and the clang of the lock vibrated throughout the small box they called a cell. I stared down at the stale envelope that matched the scenery around me, and sat on the skeletal mattress I frequented. I slipped my thumb under the flap, careful to avoid paper cuts, and slowly opened it, as if I were expecting a bomb to be triggered by my movements. 

When I pulled out the letter, there was a single paragraph that bore into the delicate material.

> I thought I knew who you were, but I don’t know what to believe anymore. I thought that you were helping out and there was no way that you would have let me take the fall for something you did, no way you would have even killed that man to begin with. But I also wouldn’t have thought you’d kill an inmate, no matter how awful, in cold blood right in front of me, that you’d changed and moved passed that. Now I’m supposed to defend you against separate murder charges, not to mention drug charges involving drugs I know you’ve taken, and I just don’t know how to anymore. All the evidence points toward you. But the one thing I can’t stop thinking about is what Hotch said the night we got caught: that you were manipulating me the whole time and I’d fallen into the trap of a professional criminal, even as a profiler. I don’t want to believe that, but maybe it’s true. Maybe you’re the one who’s been using me this whole time. I don’t have the answers, and I don’t think I ever will. Don’t keep tabs on me. I know you have the means to, in whatever capacity, but I don’t want you tracking my life. I no longer want you to be a part of it. And stay out of Maeve’s, in case you think that’s some twisted loophole you can use. This is no longer your family.

The room had never felt so silent before, so suffocating. All the air circulation in the room stopped at once, slowly making its way in my direction. It piled up on top of me like some sick game of tetris, stealing any oxygen I could get, collapsing my lungs in the process. The weight of that small cell, of that small letter, of those small words, pushed me under the smothering air, holding me there until I surrendered, allowing everything to go blank. 

* * *

“But do you think she’s back on drugs?” Derek persisted. It was something most of the team members had been arguing over for the past few weeks. Penelope had hacked the cameras inside the facility that was housing Aundreya, and observing her was a new pastime. Derek, Emily, JJ, Penelope, and Rossi would gather in the bat cave to see what was new with their recently-estranged team member.

“I don’t know. She seems unwavered by anything at this point. I just can’t tell if that’s just how she’s coping, or if that’s something more,” Emily joined.

“I don’t think she would.” It was JJ this time, “I mean, she worked pretty hard to get off of them the first time, and only got back on to help out your cousin. Plus, she didn’t relapse when she went in there for Spence.”

“True,” Derek acknowledged, “but she had a purpose going in there, and now she’s just sorta … in there.”

There was a moment of heavy silence before Penelope asked, “Do you think she knows?”

“Knows what?” It was the first time Rossi had entered the conversation this morning.

“You know, about … her case? Like how it’s going?” 

“Who knows what she knows. She clearly just got some sort of information, but I’m not sure it’s about how badly her case is, otherwise I think she’d be looking a lot different,” Rossi pointed out. 

Derek shivered, “It’s kinda freaking me out.”

“Which part?” Emily inquired.

“All of it. The way she’s nonchalantly getting into fights, not being affected at all by the taser, just sitting there in her cell completely unmoving with that creepy-ass smirk on her face…” Derek shook his head. 

“Yeah, that’s true, so I definitely don’t think she knows more about her situation. If she does, she’s not letting on,” Emily replied.

“I agree. I just want to know what she knows,” JJ expressed.

“And whatever is on that piece of paper. She brings it everywhere with her and just keeps looking over it,” Rossi added.

“What I really wanna know is: why hasn’t she gotten herself out yet?” The inquiry came from Derek’s mouth, but had been rattling around in everyone’s head. “What is she waiting for?”

“I mean, it takes a lot of effort to break out of a prison. Maybe she just hasn’t figured it out yet?” JJ offered.

“I don’t think so. When it came to breaking Reid out, she did it in under a week. She’s been in there … what? Six months?” Derek acknowledged.

“Seven months, one week, and two days,” Reid recited from the doorframe. It was the first time he’d even come _near_ Garcia’s layer in the mornings since finding out the activities of the other agents. All heads whipped toward him. Before any other comments could be made, he stated, “We have a case.”

The rest of them shared a collective questioning look before trudging back to the bullpen. 

Derek straggled, taking one last look at the girl he used to know, sitting inside a cement block on the screen, and mumbled to himself, “What are you planning?”

* * *

Prison is on a whole different planet. The time moves differently; not exactly slower, but definitely not faster either. It’s like each individual day takes eons to go by, but the next thing you know, you’ve already wasted over a year of your life in there, doing the same thing every day, over and over and over again. 

There were only two things that kept time for me in the form of ‘pre’ and ‘post’: a single visit, and that letter. 

That damn letter.

I didn’t realize it at the time, but I was obsessing over it. I read it at least 15 times a day, if not more, and every time I read it, it was like the information was completely new to me. I kept trying to make sense of it, or at least push it past the thick layers of protection that were preventing me from understanding it, until I literally woke up reciting it. At that point, I forced myself to face the truth of the matter, and come up with a new pastime.

Which wasn’t much better.

I instead decided to obsess over a list of names I had scratched on the back of the letter. It was a simple list, but the weight of it was massive.

  1. Troye Harding - 19, initiation
  2. Sam Raxton - mid 20s, fight club
  3. Em Taylor - 16?, me or her
  4. Philip Dung - 34, self-defense
  5. Lex Quinn - 18, traitor
  6. Idina Perie - 28?, fight club
  7. Brayden Price - upper teens, traitor
  8. Ori B. - 44, ordered
  9. Jay Nix - 21, self-defense
  10. Chris W. - mid 30s, preventative necessary
  11. Elle - mid 20s, pre-nes
  12. Aiden Jaxton - 23, bad call
  13. Jordan U. - 31, cross-fire
  14. Andie Trinity - 39, pre-nes
  15. Callie - 22?, bad call
  16. J. Justin - 24, information
  17. Victor Collins - 57, me or him
  18. Sydney Racca- 20, me
  19. Darrell Fairchild - 48, hurt Spence



The list contained those I’d personally killed, their age, and why. I thought it was important that at least someone remember them, and if they were gonna haunt anyone, who better than me? Plus, I liked the reminder of what had passed, and where I was now.

At some point I’d gotten so used to the violence and the hate that I just became immune to it all. At one point, I didn’t care who I hurt, or why. There was even a moment, one of the lowest in my life, where I didn’t need a reason anymore. I didn’t _want_ a reason. All I wanted to do was just act out, but I forced myself to control it, releasing it in still unproductive ways, but not _as_ unproductive. I turned back to drugs and fighting, which was ultimately my downfall. It’s what led to one of my best friends getting killed, something that I would never forgive myself for. It snapped me out of my daze, but not soon enough, because shortly thereafter I found myself behind bars, just like the ones surrounding me now. 

Below the list, I had three more names written out.

20\. Xena Adaland

21\. Jamar DeLeon

22\. Aundreya Chambers

I wanted to stop, I wanted to be better. But I was in a situation that just didn’t seem to allow that. I told my father only months prior that there was always a way out without having to return to my old habits. I really wished that were true. 

But here, in this cell, with the new information I had, I couldn’t see how it would be. They _destroyed_ my life, and now, I had everything I needed. All I had to do was strike.


End file.
